J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Thanks especially for any and all reviews! There will be a longer than usual wait for the next chapter—it will be posted July 10. God bless!

July 5 – Wednesday

Biff was whistling as he went down to the beach to fish again. The sport would no doubt eventually lose some of its appeal, being an everyday occurrence, but for now it was still fun. Then, too, the boys had actually had a lot of fun yesterday. It was the first real fun they had had on the island. It gave the whole situation a brighter outlook than it had had before. Maybe being stuck on this island wasn't all bad, after all. They would get rescued somehow, sooner or later, and in the meantime, it was quite the adventure.

Biff set the bowl with his bait in it on the beach and sat down to start baiting his hook. That was when he noticed the footprints. At first glance, he didn't think anything of them. What was odd about a set of footprints on the beach? Then he remembered that no one else had been down to the beach yet that morning, and the tide should have washed away any prints made the day before.

Turning his attention away from his fishing pole, he scrutinized the footprints more closely. They led all the way across the beach and down into the water in several places. Whoever had made them hadn't been wearing shoes, but that was nothing unusual. In the last few days, the boys had been abandoning wearing shoes one by one. Phil was the only one who still insisted on wearing them. As he looked at these prints, though, Biff didn't think any of his friends could have made them. Just to check, he made a print right next to one of these strange ones. His looked like it had been made by Bigfoot in comparison. None of the others had feet small enough to make tracks like that.

Biff abandoned the fishing gear and turned to run back up the beach, not stopping until he had reached the cabin. Joe and Phil were cleaning up after breakfast, but none of the others were in sight.

"Guys!" Biff shouted. "There's somebody else on the island!"

"What?" Joe asked, looking up from the dishes. "Did you see them?"

"Well, no. I just saw some footprints…"

"How do you know it wasn't one of us who made the footprints?" Phil asked.

"They…" Biff started, but he was interrupted by Tony coming out of the cabin and saying, "Hey, guys, did you happen to see…" Tony paused when he saw that he had interrupted Biff. "Oh, sorry."

"It's fine," Biff said, waving it off. "But I'm telling you guys, there's somebody else on the island. The footprints are way too small for any of us to make."

"Wait, what's going on?" Tony asked.

"Biff found some footprints down on the beach," Joe replied. "We'd better take a look at them."

With Biff leading the way, as if the others didn't already know where to go, the four of them headed back to the beach. On the way, Biff explained about them being too small to belong to any of the castaways, and once the others saw the prints, they all agreed. Joe scrutinized them for several seconds.

"I'd say the person who made these probably wears a ladies' size six," he said finally.

"You mean, it's a woman on the island?" Phil asked.

Joe shrugged. "Maybe. It could be a younger boy, too. But we already found evidence that points to a girl being on the island. Maybe she's still here."

"So then this person could be the same one who lost those beads and had the pink tent," Tony commented thoughtfully, folding his arms.

"It could be," Joe agreed. "I mean, from these footprints, she's a little more grown-up than we thought, or else she has grown up since she lost those things."

"It makes sense, though," Tony said. "You see, I was making something out of those beads, and it's disappeared. That's what I was going to ask you guys if you've seen. If they were her beads, it would make sense for her to take them back."

"But that would mean that she came right into the cabin without any of us seeing her," Phil protested.

"No," Tony replied. "I thought I left them with my journal by the rock this morning this morning. When I came back, the journal and the pen were still there, but the beads were missing. I thought maybe, somehow I left them in the cabin, and I guess it's still possible, but this looks more likely."

"But why haven't we seen her? We've been here two weeks now," Phil pointed out.

"Who knows?" Joe stood up and looked around him. "There are a lot of places she could hide, especially if she's been here for several years. In any case, we can't deny she's here. Or at least, somebody's here. Biff's right; no way any of us could have made these prints."

"If she took the beads from Tony, she must know we're here," Biff said. "Why is she hiding from us? I know if someone landed on the island, I certainly wouldn't hide from them."

"It's hard to say," Joe replied. "She could just be watching us and sizing us up to make sure we're not a threat to her. In any case, we'd better tell Frank and Chet about this. I would say we should try following her tracks, but they go right up onto those rocks over there, so we'd never find her."

HBNDHBNDHB

The plane began its descent, causing Nancy to completely wake up. She hadn't exactly been asleep, but she had come close to dozing off while being wrapped in a memory. She sighed as full consciousness brought back the events of the last few days. There were so many memories of Frank and Joe, even times when Nancy had owed her life to one or the other of them. It was hard to believe that they were really gone.

"We're about to land in River Heights," Jack told her from the cockpit.

Nancy nodded. After a long debate, Mr. Hardy and Mr. Radley had decided to go back to the mainland, and they had offered to bring Nancy back to River Heights. Nancy was tempted to stay in Hawaii and continue to investigate, but she decided it was probably best to do what the more experienced detectives advised, so she had accepted the offer. It had been a long and dismal flight.

A few minutes later, they had landed. Because he was flying a private plane, Jack taxied to a hanger before stopping. He was going to need to refuel before taking off for Bayport again. Nancy's father and Ned were waiting to meet them. As soon as she saw them, Nancy ran to the two men and embraced first Carson and then Ned.

"Are you all right, Nancy?" Carson asked as he held her tightly.

"I think so," Nancy told him.

"I'm so sorry," Ned whispered in her ear when it was his turn.

Nancy let her head rest against his chest. She had never been so grateful for him as she was at this moment.

Fenton, Sam, and Jack had all disembarked by now, and Carson went to speak with them.

"I don't even know what to say, Fenton," he told his old friend.

"I know," Fenton replied. "I never thought…" His voice choked and he cut himself off.

Carson startled him by giving him a hug. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do, tell me. Please."

"Thanks," Fenton managed to say.

Ned also approached Fenton and shook his hand, telling him how sorry he was. The two men had already heard all the details, so there was no need for them to ask questions. The conversation wasn't long, nor was much said. Not much could be said. When Jack had finished refueling, the plane took off again.

It wasn't until she was settled in the passenger seat of her father's car—Ned had offered to take the back seat—that all her emotions of the last few days broke loose. Carson and Ned did their best to console her until she managed to stop the flow of tears.

"Where's Hannah?" she asked after a few minutes.

"She's at home," Carson replied. "We thought maybe you wouldn't want to be overwhelmed by too many people meeting you at the airport. Bess and George are ready to come at a moment's notice, too, if you want them to."

Nancy nodded. "I'd like to see them all."

HBNDHBNDHB

For her part, Laura would have liked to see a few less people. She wasn't sure how the news had broken all over town, but ever since it had, there had been a seemingly endless stream of people visiting or calling, and it felt as if Laura didn't have even a moment when she didn't have to be keeping up appearances. She was relieved when Fenton had told her he would be coming home. He was the only person she really wanted to see. At least, the only living person.

Perhaps that wasn't quite fair. Gertrude had been wonderful. For as often as she had predicted that her family's insistence on detective work would lead them to a bad end, she didn't say a word about that now. She had a talent for seeing when Laura was getting worn out from visitors and wasn't shy about finding ways to ask them to leave. And all the while, Laura knew that she was deeply grieved, too.

Once Fenton was home, there were a lot of questions (mostly from Gertrude) and a lot of explanations. Gertrude had made supper, and they talked while they ate. At least, they talked while they sat in front of plates of food. No one had much of an appetite. Laura didn't touch a bite.

Finally, she stood up and hurried out of the room and onto the back porch. Fenton followed her and found her gripping the porch railing with both hands.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said, choking on her tears.

"I know." Fenton wrapped his arms around her, feeling his own tears stinging his eyes.

"What are we going to do?" Laura asked. "How can we go on after this?"

Fenton said nothing at first. He had no answers; only the same questions. Then he said, "I'm going to find the people behind this."

Laura shook her head. "That won't change things."

"No," Fenton admitted. "I guess not." Then he added, "But they need to pay for this. And we need to make sure that they can't do this to anyone else."

"I'd rather see them get away if it would bring the boys back," Laura replied. She sank against her husband. "I just don't understand how a thing like this could happen. Everyone always says that nothing happens without a reason. What possible reason could there be for this?"

"I don't know, honey. I just don't know."